


Like this place wasn't enough of a zoo?

by Forestwater



Series: The Creatively-Titled Camp Camp AU Collection [5]
Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: F/M, Hybrid AU, There is no plot, don't look for a plot, there will never be a plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2017-10-13
Packaged: 2018-12-02 08:19:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11505384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Forestwater/pseuds/Forestwater
Summary: Literally just cute fluff.Ha, get it? Fluff? Because they're animals?I'm so sorry.





	1. Horns

**Author's Note:**

> This is quite possibly the stupidest thing I’ve ever been insanely proud of. I don't even know where to begin with this one. I just think it's cute as fuck.
> 
> Heavily inspired by (and maybe a little ripped off of) [PadalickingGood's RT Hybrid AU](http://padalickingood.tumblr.com/tagged/rt-hybrid-au). Their art is AMAZING, and their hybrid dorks are absolutely precious. (Not gonna lie, totally stole some ideas off of them, such as many of the animal ideas and the idea of [trimming horns](http://padalickingood.tumblr.com/post/74710851517/when-they-get-to-the-length-where-he-gets-caught).
> 
> Anyway, the fact that David is a cat is entirely the fault of [Pheebadohoh](http://pheebadohdoh.tumblr.com/post/159471217738/im-sorry-anon-i-got-carried-away-and-for-some) and [KatykatUniverse](http://katykatuniverse.tumblr.com/post/162286310988/i-swear-to-god-i-was-drawing-your-requests-guys), who made the cutest damn catboys and broke my insanely long bunny/dog tie with the need to make him a kitten.

Sometimes Gwen was convinced that God thought He was _real_ funny.

"God damn it motherfucker . . ." She yanked at the comb that was caught, wincing as it tugged but wouldn't budge. _"David!"_

Yeah, God was a hell of a comedian. Because what would a sheep be without wool?

David burst into the room, half-in and half-out of his shirt. "Is everything okay?" he asked, frantically trying to wriggle into his clothes and hurry to her side at the same time. Tripping over his tail, he stumbled forward, catching himself on one of her horns and nearly sending them both to the floor. _"Gah!"_

"Sorry," she said, helping him to his feet. "I didn't mean to make it sound like an emergency or anything, I just . . ." She sighed, pulling at the comb with no better luck. "Got stuck again."

His ears perked up. "Oh, no problem!" He hopped up onto the desk behind her and settled into a crouch, flexing his fingers to extend his nails. Gingerly sliding the needle-thin point of his index claw into her wool, he teased apart the strands until the comb was freed, then retracted his claws and fluffed her hair. "There we go! All better!"

"Thanks." She glanced down at herself to make sure everything was more or less in order and gestured for him to get off her desk. "Come on, let's go wake the zoo."

"All right!" As they walked toward the campers' tents, he gently patted her horn and said, "I didn't hurt it, right?"

She shrugged. "Nah, I've got a tough skull. Though . . . aren't cats supposed to be graceful?"

"I couldn't _see!_ No one's graceful when they're blind!"

Rounding up the kids was never especially fun, though at least when they were tired it was easier to keep track of them. Even Nikki wasn't up to much this early in the morning, barely snapping at David's tail before settling in for breakfast.

_THUNK._

"Fart nards!"

_THUNK._

"Stupid door!"

David glanced toward the entrance to the mess hall, his eyes widening. "Gwen, Nurf's h —"

"On it." She got up, leaving her food behind, and went to where the boy was twisting and floundering, trying to get inside without catching his horns on the doorway. "Can I trim them _now_ , Nurf?" she asked, leaning against the wall and watching him snort and scuff at the ground with his sneakers.

"I don't —" _THUNK_ "— like —" _THUNK_ "— people touching —" _THUNK_ "— my horns!"

"No one does." After a few more seconds he stopped, panting, his tail flicking back and forth. There were some pretty impressive gouges in the frame, and Gwen raised her eyebrows. "But it's just gonna be worse the longer you wait."

He glared down at the ground, crossing his arms. "Fine," he muttered, tugging at his septum ring sullenly.

Gwen looked back at David. "Hey, bring us food when you get a chance? We'll be out back." She liked trimming inside, but there was no way those horns were getting into their cabin, so she settled him down on a rock behind the mess hall and went into her room to get the supplies.

She pawed through her stuff, wincing. Normally she'd shine a flashlight through the horn to see (and avoid) blood vessels as much as possible, but that was for maybe half an inch at most. Nurf'd never been trimmed in his life — and to be fair, she couldn't imagine anyone getting close enough to try without getting gored — and she was going to have to take off a lot more than that.

"All right," she said, setting the box down next to Nurf's rock and running a hand along one of his horns, "this is probably gonna bleed a lot, but it shouldn't hurt. You're off the hook for camp activities, though — don't want you fainting, so you'll be in our cabin most of the day."

"Fine." He looked and sounded angry, but she noticed the way his leg kept bouncing and his hands trembled. "Whatever, I don't even care."

"Close your eyes. It'll be less scary that way."

"Shut up! I'm not scared!" But he did as she said, screwing his eyes shut and taking a deep, shaky breath.

It wasn't pretty, and it wasn't quick, but eventually she'd cut his horns to a manageable length and gotten the bleeding to die down. "Okay," she said with a sigh of relief, gently bandaging the ends, "remember they'll grow back, and if you do it more often they'll look and feel better. It's like a bad haircut, all right?"

Nurf opened his eyes and gaped in shock; the grassy clearing looked like the site of a gruesome murder, bits of bone and huge splashes of blood staining the ground around them. "What the — !" He climbed to his feet and wobbled just a bit, letting her take his elbow and guide him over to lean against the wall.

"I know, I know." Gwen rested a hand on his upper back, hoping she sounded soothing. But she wasn't very good at this kind of thing. Where was David when she needed him?

"Oh my gosh, what the heck _happened_ back here?!"

Oh. There he was.

David's knuckles were white around the tray of food he'd brought to them, the glasses of orange juice-like product trembling in his unsteady hands. His face was pale and cheesy, his hair had puffed out on end, and his pupils dilated into slits.

Well, so much for soothing. She took the tray, ignoring the way he hissed and jerked away from her bloody fingers. "Thanks, David. Can you get Nurf some clean clothes? I'm gonna make sure he eats something."

"I-I . . . um, okay." She'd never seen him this shaken, and it would've been entertaining if she didn't need him to be a functioning adult. "I'll . . . be right back, then."

Once he was gone, Gwen handed Nurf the tray. "At least get through the toast and juice so you don't pass out."

"I won't," he grumbled, but nibbled at the toast and kept his gaze turned away from the bloody patch of grass.

After a few minutes David returned, keeping his eyes on his feet. "I'm, um, here. With clothes."

"Awesome. Take Nurf to the showers and then bring him back to the cabin. I'm gonna change into something that looks a little less _Carrie_."

The rest of the day was spent in an armchair, watching old cartoons with Nurf, both of them trying to ignore the way his horns were jagged stubs. He wouldn't look at them, not even when she periodically unwrapped them to put more anti-bleeding gel on the ends, and when she heard the faintest sniffling from his side of the room, she tossed the remote at him without looking and let him turn the volume up.

David wandered in as the sun was setting, bringing them both dinner (they'd wordlessly agreed it wasn't a good idea to leave Nurf alone with their personal belongings, so Gwen was confined to the cabin). He set the tray down and stretched out on the floor, rolling onto his back and watching the television upside-down.

"Nurf?" He glanced up at her with a grunt, and she continued, "I think you're in good shape. Eat something and I'll walk you back to the tents?"

"Yeah, fine, I don't care." He picked at his dinner, frowning, and she suspected the Quartermaster's spaghetti and crickets wasn't the only reason.

Gwen glanced down at David, who met her eyes and shrugged as well as he could while sprawled on the carpet. She rubbed at her own horns, poking the dull tips thoughtfully. "You know, I should probably trim these down too, before I forget. It's been a while." They both turned to her with varying levels of wariness. She met Nurf's gaze, trying to keep her face and voice casual. "Would you mind waiting around a little longer so I can get that done? It won't take long."

"I . . ." He shrugged, still looking sullen. "Whatever."

"Great!" She stood and stretched before heading to the bathroom, making sure to leave the door open. After a second she texted David: 'Come in so he doesn't feel weird about being curious.'

He replied almost instantly: 'but what if he steals something while we're both in there?'

Gwen didn't even bother replying, just cleared her throat loud enough to travel into the next room. Getting the hint, she heard David mumble, "Excuse me!" A few moments later his head appeared in the doorframe. He hopped onto the lip of the sink as though that wasn't the most inconvenient place he could perch. "So why are we doing this?" he asked, drawing his knees to his chest and cocking his head to the side, his tail wrapping around him like a shawl.

"You'll see." She kept her focus on the flashlight in her hands, flicking off the overhead light and shining it through her left horn. (She didn't need to; after enough years of caring for them she'd more or less memorized where the blood vessels ended. But just in case Nurf decided to wander in, she wanted to make sure she showed the whole process.) Marking the place she wanted to cut with a black marker, she turned the lights on just in time to hear clumping, heavy footsteps.

David winced, shifting back as she reached for her trimmer. "Sh-should I move out of the way?"

"Nah, it's not gonna bleed, don't worry." Despite himself, he leaned in closer as she began to work, looking fascinated. "You can ask questions," she added, keeping her eyes on David but really talking to the silent figure in the doorway.

He _finally_ seemed to pick up on what they were doing and scrambled for something to say. "So . . . uh, how often do you have to cut them? I've never noticed."

"I try to get it over with before showering, just in case I nick something," she replied, "but like once a month, ish? About the same time I shear my hair."

"And it doesn't . . . hurt?"

She shook her head. "Once, at like fourteen, I was embarrassed and tried to cut them all the way off. Didn't get halfway through one before I passed out from the pain. But it's like your claws; fine as long as you don't go too deep. Though sheep horns are a little different from, say, a bull's, which'll probably bleed a little every time." Setting aside the trimmer, she filed the end until it was smooth and rounded.

"Why're you doing that?" Nurf blurted out. He didn't look away as the counselors turned to him, but his jaw tightened, and he reached up and brushed the bandaged ends of one of his own horns. "Why didn't you do it to mine?"

Gwen continued working, focusing on making a straight cut. "Figured I'd wait until it was a little less raw, you know? It wouldn't hurt, but it'd be pretty gross and might fuck up —" David winced and she rolled her eyes, "— _mess up_ the healing. I don't know enough about bull horns to be cool with risking it." He didn't reply, watching her carefully as she finished and cleaned up. "Ready to get out of here, kid?"

"Don't call me that," he muttered, but followed her to the front of the cabin.

"W-would you like me to walk him back?" David asked. He usually was the one who'd do this kind of thing; Gwen wasn't known for being especially nurturing, let alone going out of her way to escort one of their more difficult children to bed. But David was still looking a little pale, his eyes darting nervously to Nurf's horns and quickly away, so she dismissed him with a raised hand and led the way to the campers' tents.

They walked in silence for the most part, which Gwen had expected. Nurf wasn't chatty on the best of days, and this certainly hadn't been one of those. Aside from a muttered obscenity when the Quartermaster flitted low overhead, the boy was quiet.

It was only after she'd bid him goodnight and turned to leave that he spoke, so mumbled and fast that she almost missed it. "It won't be that bad every time, right?"

She shook her head. "Just be smart and don't go another 11 years between cuts, okay?"

"Do you think . . . maybe, next month . . ."

"I'll teach you how, yeah. And I'll ask QM to pick up the stuff you'll need." If it was any other kid she would've ruffled his hair, but even with his horns shortened and stubby, she didn't want to get too close. "Goodnight, Nurf."

* * *

 David was curled up in a ball on her bed when she returned, his eyes glittering in the light from the hallway. "Everything all right?" he asked, stretching and rolling onto his side as she came in.

"Yeah." Shoving him over so she could sit down, she plopped onto the mattress and started untying her shoes. "He's freaked out, but he'll get over it. And I can't blame him — freaked _me_ out a little, too. Lot more blood than I'd expected." She was quiet for a few moments, waiting for him to agree (and admit how unnerved he'd been), but when she looked over his eyes were glued to her shoelaces, the pink tip of his tongue poking out between his lips. "Oh, for Christ's sake, _here_." She swiveled so that she was laying back against her pillows and set her feet on his lap, letting him untie her shoes and play with the laces. "You're fucking ridiculous."

He blushed, but glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and grinned. "You did a good job today," he said, swinging one of the laces around his index finger. "I'm really proud of you!"

"Why?" Gwen snorted, shaking her head. "I ruined my boots," she glared pointedly at the sneakers she'd been forced to wear instead, "I turned the back of the mess hall into a swamp of evil — almost making you throw up, _by the way_ — and you were left alone the whole day." She flashed him a sarcastic "okay" sign. "Real stellar performance all around."

"You related to Nurf," he replied with a shrug. "That's not easy."

"Eh, thick skulls gotta stick together." He chuckled, finally done with her shoes and sliding them off her feet before laying down next to her. "Besides, it's . . . shitty, having someone fuck with your horns. Especially when you're away from your parents and the person doing it doesn't really know anything about bull anatomy." She hooked an arm around his neck and gently scratched behind his ears, smiling as he melted into her side with a purr. "I felt bad, I guess."

"I didn't know it was that scary," he mumbled against her neck, growing drowsy from the fingers in his hair. "I'm sorry."

She kissed him on the forehead. "It's fine. Beats having a giant tail, at least. I still can't believe you've never closed that thing in a door."

"Just like another arm." His tail came up and clumsily flicked her nose, making her sputter and laugh. "Hard to forget it's there."

Fighting the urge to shove the fuzzy limb out of her face (she'd learned quickly that some things were too sensitive to be touched without good reason), she wrapped her other arm around his waist and pulled him closer until he was laying half on top of her. "Shove me away when you wanna get up," she said; he usually couldn't sleep more than a few hours at a time, and spent most of the night prowling.

He gave a sleepy hum of agreement and licked her nose before curling up and falling asleep.


	2. Boxes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David isn't very helpful. Like, ever.

"Okay, so this'll really keep him busy?"

David's eyes intently followed her movements as she set the large cardboard box on the dock, weighing it down with a rock. "Yeah, it should."

Gwen picked up her stack of boxes again, shaking her head. "God, it's nice to have another cat here. I'd have no idea how to deal with Max if it weren't for you." She brushed past him, heading toward the camp entrance.

The plan was a simple one: Max was constantly trying to escape; they needed to stop him; David shot down all of her ideas because they were "immoral" or "illegal"; and cats liked boxes.

Max was a cat. He'd like the boxes. He'd sit in the boxes instead of escaping.

It was airtight logic, she thought. The only problem was . . .

"David?" She realized he wasn't at her side and turned in a slow circle. Jesus, why was her co-counselor so damn  _ sneaky _ ? "David, where are you?"

Nothing. The air was still, the lake lapped gently at the shore, glimmering like liquid silver in the moonlight that drenched everything in cold white light, from the grass to the dock to the box sitting innocently out above the water — "Oh for  _ fuck's sake." _ She stomped down to the end of the dock, setting down her Max-traps and pulling open the flaps of the box. "Having fun, asshole?"

David blinked up at her. He was sitting with his knees drawn up to his chest and the rock between his feet, his tail flicking back and forth with pleasure even as his ears fell. "Hi, Gwen."

This was the man in charge of their camp.

Once again she marveled that it hadn't burned down years ago.

"One of these summers I'm gonna get you a collar with a bell on it so I can't lose you," she snapped, rolling her eyes. "Maybe a leash too."

He laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "Th-that'd be . . . I'll try to be better."

"Well, at least we know it works." Gwen held out her hand, waiting for him to reluctantly take hers and let her pull him out of the box. "Are you gonna have to sit in every one we lay out?"

He gnawed on his lower lip, his sharp canine catching on the skin and drawing a bead of blood that was black in the moonlight. "I don't  _ have  _ to, but . . ." He shrugged and looked away. "It'd be fun," he offered meekly.

She rolled her eyes, shoving the boxes into his arms and turning on the flashlight. "Come on, weirdo. Let's finish this."


	3. Headbutts & Catnaps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Camper-counselor bonding happens in some pretty unique ways.
> 
> CW: use of the r-word in the beginning of the second section

" _Sorry_ , nerd! Actually, I'm not sorry, and my sarcastic apology is meant to further annoy you. It's a quick and effective way to get attention."

Gwen sighed. "Nurf, get over here. And _run._ "

She'd discovered after a few weeks that their resident bully tended to keep to himself when he had something to do. It was a combination of lack of attention, boredom, and pent-up aggression that seemed to cause the most trouble, and while David wasn't a _huge_ fan of the solution she'd come up with —

The boy broke into a trot, lowering his head as he thundered past the other campers. Gwen crouched down and braced herself, closing her eyes.

 _"Grahh!"_ He collided into her with enough force to send her back a few feet, their heels kicking up a massive cloud of dust. She tossed her head, shaking him off, and they backed up without taking their eyes off each other.

— he had to admit it worked.

When she'd first tried this, it had taken nearly half an hour of head-butting to work out all of Nurf's energy to a point where he could pay attention and not bother the other campers; they'd worn deep grooves in the dirt with their heels, and David had been about to call her off when the kid had shrugged and returned to his station, keeping to himself for the rest of the day. Now it only took a few runs before he was calmer, and once he slowed down, his tail no longer flicking with agitation, she straightened and held up her hands in truce.

"Better?" she asked. He grunted and she shoved him toward where David was setting up for Scuba Camp. "Good. Back to it." Rubbing the base of her horns (it didn't hurt, but it gave her a strange jittery feeling) with one hand, she followed at a slower pace and joined David on the dock.

"He seems calmer," David hummed, glancing over at where Nurf was letting Preston lecture him about how to properly wear scuba gear without a single insult or threat. "Do you feel all right?"

"Yeah, yeah. It's what we do." She rapped her knuckles on her forehead. "Thick skulls, remember? We're not all delicate fluffy kitties like you. Speaking of —" She groaned, bending down and picking up another set of scuba gear, "I really can't talk you into doing this instead of me, huh?"

He swallowed, glancing from her face to the gear, then out to the lake. "I-I mean, I suppose I _could_. . ."

"Nah, I wouldn't do that to you." Cats and water, Jesus. "Just watch the kids, okay?" Neil and Max were the only two water-phobic kids, so David had planned an activity that would keep them dry while the rest of them tried not to drown in Lake Lilac.

"Can do!"

He was about to return to shore when she put a hand on his shoulder and added, "Don't try too hard, okay? You know it'll backfire."

"I know, Gwen," he said with a sigh, his shoulders drooping. "It's just so exciting . . ."

"Yeah, I know it is." David had been hoping for years to have another cat at the camp, so when Max's name and breed had first appeared on the camper applications he'd been ecstatic. Unfortunately, Max was . . . well, _Max_ , and after two years of back-and-forth there were no signs of either his animosity or David's hopefulness letting up anytime soon. "But if he scratches you,  _I'm_ the one who has to deal with it, so think of me before you do something stupid."

"I will!" He leaned in to peck her on the cheek before freezing, his eyes widening. He quickly pulled back, dusting imaginary dirt off her shoulder with the fakest nonchalance she'd ever seen. "Take care, everyone!"

She ushered the kids to the end of the dock. "Come on, guys. Let's get this over with."

* * *

 Gwen had never really considered herself the kind of person to have strong feelings about animals, pro or con. She'd never had pets, but she freaked out over an adorable panda video just like anyone else. Fairly neutral when it came to animals, full or hybrid.

The more time she spent at this camp, though, the more she started to think she was  _really_ not a cat person.

"The fuck _is_ he?" she muttered to herself, shaking silly string out of her wool and pounding on her touchscreen. The phone rang a couple times, then an obnoxiously sunny voice rang out, _"Campe diem! You've reached David Greenwood. I can't take your call right now . . ."_

She was going to kill him.

Especially since . . . oh, _fuck_. "Where's Max?" she demanded, counting the campers again as though he might materialize if she tried hard enough.

Despite it being their first summer, Neil and Nikki had been here long enough to realize they were basically Max's keepers. It wasn't like he'd willingly spent time with anyone else at camp. Neil ruffled his feathers anxiously, glancing around like his friend might suddenly appear out of nowhere, and Nikki beamed at Gwen with teeth way too large and sharp for her age.

"Not trying to escape, that's for sure!"

Gwen immediately didn't believe that, but Neil jumped in: "Really, though. We haven't seen him since breakfast." He scratched at the ground with his talons. "I — think he said something about trying to learn David's secret?"

Nikki jumped in, her tail wagging. "That's right! He wants to figure out what makes him so happy all the time!" Dropping to the ground and scratching behind her ear, she added thoughtfully, "He said either there's something he's repressing or he's just retarded." She turned to Neil. "Hey, what's 'retarded' mean, anyway?"

He shook his head affectionately, patting her on the top of the head with one wing. "Nothing you need to worry about, Nik."

Well, that at least sounded vaguely plausible. And it'd kill two birds with one stone (no offense to Neil) if they were together. "Think you can sniff him out?"

"On it!" Nikki immediately took off, her nose to the ground, with Neil fluttering anxiously behind her.

"All right, guys. Keep . . . uh, doing whatever you're doing." She turned to the Quartermaster, who was hardly at his best during the day but better than nothing. "Can you make sure they don't kill anyone, QM?" The old man grunted, not opening his eyes. His wings were folded protectively around him, but at least he was upright; if she came back and he was hanging upside-down, they'd have a problem, but she figured he could probably stay awake for five minutes.

She turned and followed Neil and Nikki away from the activities field, half-expecting the trail to lead them into the woods or to where QM's bus was parked or something, but surprisingly they wove around to the area behind the camper's tents, a little grassy field where the kids sometimes spent their free hours. David was sprawled out snoring in a patch of sunlight on the road that curved around the field, one arm flung over his eyes and his ears twitching with the breeze. This was annoying but not entirely unexpected, and part of her was relieved to have confirmation that he slept at all.

The surprise was that Max was curled up in a tiny ball on David's chest, his head tucked under the counselor's chin. His tail flicked restlessly, but neither of them stirred as Nikki froze in a point about ten feet away.

Gwen rubbed her head as she passed, going up to the sleeping cats and crouching by David's shoulder. "Hey, chief?"

He stirred, rubbing his face and blinking up at her blearily. "Gwen?" He started to sit up on his elbows and went still, eyes widening as he realized Max was still asleep on him. "Oh my golly," he whispered, breaking into the brightest grin she'd seen all summer (which was saying something).

"Wanna actually help me run Stunting Camp, or should I just hope enough of the kids live that we'll have even teams for tomorrow's dodgeball game?"

David's eyes flicked from hers to the fluffy black ears twitching in his face. "Gwen, are you _seeing_ this?" His voice was too awestruck to be sarcastic.

“I do. And if he wakes up and sees this he’ll probably kill you. Or himself. Or everyone in the camp so there are no witnesses.” He shot her a reproving look but carefully shifted the camper off his chest, settling him on the ground and springing to Gwen’s side with the reflexes she envied (and thought were totally wasted on someone that inherently awkward). “What happened?”

He shrugged, his cheeks flushing pink. “I went to make sure all the campers were awake, and it was so nice and warm I just had to sit down for a second, and . . . well . . .” He looked away self-consciously, bringing his fist to his mouth and running his tongue along his knuckles.

Gwen knocked the dirt off the back of his uniform and shook a leaf out of his hair. “You didn’t have to lay in the road,” she pointed out with a smirk. “There’s grass literally right there.”

David continued licking the back of his hand, still not meeting her eyes. “It’s not sunny over there.”

They were interrupted by Nikki, who’d apparently decided they weren’t going to wake Max soon enough and had jumped on him, sending up a cloud of dust that Neil and the counselors quickly stepped back from. “MORNING, SUNSHINE!”

“WHAT THE _FUCK_ , NIKKI?! YOU COULDA KILLED ME!”

She groaned, rubbing her forehead. “He’s up,” she grumbled. “Energetic little shithead, huh?”

“That nap must’ve really been good for him!” David managed to keep the manic glee out of his voice, but it was a close thing.

“This is the best day of your life, isn’t it?”

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, his smile twitching. “Almost.”

The kids were still fighting; somehow a very-displeased Neil had been dragged into the fray and was trying to disentangle himself as fast as possible.

“Get _off_ me!”

“But come onnnnn, we’re gonna do stunts today! Up n’ at ‘em and _campe diem_ , Max!”

Gwen sighed. No one ever said dumb motto except occasionally Space Kid -- and, apparently now, Nikki.

David leaned in a bit, still watching the kids. “Okay, this is a pretty good day,” he admitted.

“No kidding.”

“Better than my 4th birthday.” When she looked at him questioningly, he chuckled and said, “My parents hired a clown. It was very exciting.”

She gave a small snort of disgust. “Of _course_ you like clowns.”

“They’re so happy!” As the three kids collapsed in the grass, their energy suddenly spent in that little-kid way that reminded her of a battery suddenly dying, David raised his voice and called, “Come on, kiddos! We’re running a little late this morning, so we need to get a move on if we wanna have time for all of today’s activities!”

Max rolled his eyes, climbing to his feet and shuffling toward them with his hands in his inexplicably pristine hoodie. “Like any of us gives a shit about the activities.”

Nikki bounded after them, dragging a disheveled and squawking Neil behind her. “Betcha’d rather just take a nap with _Daaaavid_ , huh?” she teased, elbowing him in the side.

“The fuck are you talking about? I was following him, and then . . .” He trailed off and his face turned red, visible even with his complexion. “Oh,  _fuck_ no.”

“Oh fuck _yes!”_ Nikki crowed, scampering out of the way in case he tried to swipe at her. “You were sleeping on him like a baby kangaroo!”

Max seemed distracted by his dawning horror. “I . . . it was warm,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. “I wasn’t tired, but then . . . I was?”

David put a hand on the camper’s shoulder comfortingly. “It’s okay, Max! Cats need to rest a lot during the day, and it’s perfectly natural for kittens to cuddle up with their mother, so --”

“You're not my mother!” He jerked away, fluttering his arms like David was an annoying fly.

Gwen tried and failed to keep her face blank. “I mean, you’re the only cats around here for miles. And we have legal custody over you while you're at camp. So I guess for the summer he kinda _is_ your mommy.”

“I hate all of you.” Grabbing Nikki by the wrist and snagging a handful of Neil’s wingfeathers, he dragged them ahead to the rest of the campers, growling threats about them not telling anyone about this.

She expected David to scold her for teasing Max, but when she looked over at him he was watching the kids walk away with his hands clasped at his chest and tears in his eyes. “Did you hear that, Gwen? He thinks of me as a mother!”

“You’re a guy, David.”

His expression didn’t change, and neither did the choked-up joy in his voice. “I don’t care!”

 _“Now_ is it the best day of your life?”

David paused, turning back to her. His expression softened, and he blinked away the mistiness in his eyes, taking advantage of their temporary solitude to kiss her on the nose. “Second-best.”


End file.
